


Somnus Rex

by yorkisms



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bad Ends, Character Study, Dream/His God Complex, Gen, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Some Necromancy too, Unreliable Narrator, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 00:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30013473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorkisms/pseuds/yorkisms
Summary: He holds their lives in his hands, whether they like it or not. Dream comes in off the ocean like a hurricane, like a lightning storm, and the land has no choice but to crack and the creatures on it no choice but to flee his divine wrath.As far as Dream is concerned, power over life and death makes him a god, or an emissary of one at least. That means he doesn't answer to the little people all around him, and that whatever he does to them simply doesn't matter in the end.He ends up liking the sound of the phrase "divine right."
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dream SMP Ensemble
Kudos: 2





	Somnus Rex

**Author's Note:**

> Very loose songfic of [this.](https://youtu.be/Us2ylGAwBnk)
> 
> I felt like writing a little more in the head of god complex c!Dream. I will not elaborate. 
> 
> This is about characters. I mostly used the RPF tag for visibility.

Contrary to popular belief, none of it bothers him. The obsidian walls, now replaced with crying, the unnatural purple liquid from it that splashes onto the floor in a steady drip. 

Technoblade, the subject of his most versed in paths of violence, told him once that he remembers reading about a torture technique where the subject is strapped in place and water is dripped on their face steadily, and unceasingly. Dream knows that over time, water can cut through a mountain in a similar way. But he doubts that Sam was thinking about that when he put in the crying obsidian. 

That said, he does want to see a person break like that. Preferably one who seems completely immovable. Like a mountain. 

It would be kind of poetic if he ever got the chance to do that to Technoblade. 

They think they've won, and at that, he has to laugh. They think that Pandora's Vault can hold him? That they know the score? Dream has things in his head that would make them all pale. 

Speaking of. Tommy. 

Dream sits up from his bed, turning his attention away from the crying obsidian and to the next five moves. Having planted the idea in Tommy that Technoblade would be his man on the outside (easy, really, as it always was easy to make those two fight), it would make an excellent red herring. 

The truth was, no one in the lands of the SMP really knew Dream. No matter what they wanted to think. They only knew what Dream wanted them to know, and in some cases, what he had told them about his life was a complete fabrication. If they ever bothered to compare notes, they might find out he lied. 

But that was what made directing them so easy. They were more likely to die than to communicate. So Dream always kept playing, unopposed, uninterrupted. This is his world, and he was born to rule it with whatever iron fist he desires. Soon, everyone will see it.

Maybe he should ask Sam for a chess board.

Though that would never happen. 

\-- 

They were fools. 

They were all fools, Dream thinks, with a wide grin, as he steps back into the sunlight. He tilts his mask up slightly, looking at the sky. It's a beautiful, cloudless day. His time has come.  
How long will it take before they notice that he's left Sam severely injured and stepped outside their prison? Sapnap threatened to take his final life, but Dream knows a few thousand things Sapnap never will.

Namely, that this world belongs to him, and that it would be quite the fight to kill a god. 

He tugs his mask back down. Fortunately for him, he doesn't have to do a lot of work- Sam's enchanted armor and weapons are more than enough. He shifts Warden's Will in his hand and walks into his world. Not for the first time, he imagines the presence he carries with him as an awe-inspiring display worthy of a god. Something, something, rings of fire, a thousand eyes, completely incomprehensible yet absolutely primally terrifying. Philza, lifetimes ago, was nicknamed the Angel of Death, but this is now Dream's gift. He holds their lives in his hands, whether they like it or not.   
Dream comes in off the ocean like a hurricane, like a lightning storm, and the land has no choice but to crack and the creatures on it no choice but to flee his divine wrath. He is heaven-sent, and there is nothing they can do about it. 

_"There's no such thing as a god,_ " Sam had said, leveling his sword at Dream. Dream had just smiled under the mask. 

_"Maybe not a god myself,"_ Dream had admitted in reply. _"But as far as you're all concerned...I may as well be."_

Dream whistles to himself as he decides that his next stop is Tommy's house. 

The lay of the land has changed quite a bit, but Dream's not concerned. No one here can stop him with the power he holds, anyway. 

Upon seeing Tommy stumble backwards, though, it occurs to Dream that Sam's axe might be a little more fun. But he can mix it up, after all. He can bring back Tommy all the times he wants. 

"How did you get out," Tommy asks, scared. Good. Dream likes the fear. This is a silly little detour, one that's for fun. His most important act is actually to neutralize Technoblade.   
He has a few ideas in mind, and he'll see which ones pan out. Either way, he does need Tommy to keep being afraid of him, and proving that his power isn't a fluke is a bonus. 

"Don't you know, Tommy?" Dream replies. "I may as well be a god. I was chosen. And you know what happens when you question the word of God, Tommy?" He grins. "Question me, and..." 

Tommy yelps, letting out a squeak of fear. 

Dream brings down the axe as hard as he can. 

He's out of shape, a bit, he realizes. Whatever. He can deal with it. The current mission is getting Ranboo's help to neutralize Technoblade. He knows from his plays that Technoblade is starting to trust the weaker half of Ranboo. Between that and Philza, Dream thinks he has access to the Blood God's singular pressure point.

People. 

He glances back at Tommy's body, whispers a word of power, and Tommy starts to come back again. This place, and its people, are set dressing. In some countries, some kingdoms, they believe or once believed that their monarch was chosen by god, and was above reproach. 

He simply needs to inform the others of his divine right to control all of this.

Dream returns to the whistling he was doing on the way here, wiping the blood off of Sam's axe. 

It really is a beautiful day. Dream appreciates the simple joy of having nice weather for a day going well already. 

The others don't know it yet, but they, like the trees in a storm, will bend before his will. And no matter how hard they try, he will not answer to them. They simply are not worthy to judge his works.

He is the closest thing they will ever see to a god, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> _I was chosen by heaven_   
>  _Say my name when you pray_   
>  _To the skies_   
>  _See Carolus rise_   
>  _With the lord my protector_   
>  _Make them bow to my will_   
>  _To the skies_   
>  _See Carolus rise._
> 
> I still have a few concepts kicking around for the Westworld fic but I need to get a handle on some of them, so I wrote this instead. Procrastinating my Procrastinating by Procrastinating. 
> 
> Tumblr: maggie-wittington


End file.
